about | short | chapbook | q&a | home

robyn art

partial list of things that happen all at once

snow, forgetting my user name, loitering in the parking lot of the Big Box Store;
the wombat filmed in its indigenous clime, the phlebotomist bemoaning the high cost
of window treatments; desire, bloodless surgery and felony arrests, hours like hands
dragged through mud or a whirl of shallow breaths; part ritual cleansing, part teenage
group-suicide pact; something growing more distinct like split ends held to light;
manning the lighthouse and absorbing the syncopated body-blows of love: a wet
mouth, hair in a comb, the razed, wind-dragged plains